The Caving Games
by MissWaffles101
Summary: This would happen to me. Both of us, brother and sister going into the games, forced to kill eachother. We weren't ready for this, we never will be. I couldn't, I wouldn't do this, even if it ended up getting me killed before the cannon goes off.


**New story! I actually got this idea from a field trip, where we went caving. And it was like, BOOM! STORY INSPIRATION! They were really pretty, and I thought, this would make a very, very interesting arena…**

Chapter 1: Chosen

My name is Lily Pruette.

How come I'm starting with that?

Because it seems to mean a lot in this story.

Allow me to tell you then.

My eyes slowly opened as I caught glance of the sun shining through my small window. It was around 10 in the morning, I still had time to sleep until the reaping.

But the problem was I didn't sleep. There was no way of me falling asleep the night before, I'm pretty sure I didn't fall asleep until midnight. It's just a lot of worrying that goes through this district.

Where I live in Panem, our sickly country, is District 4. I don't work yet, although my older brother Keith does, who goes out to fish and such. I worry about him, not for the games anymore, just so he won't die. He's our only supporter.

It's just him and me. Both of our parents died in a boating accident when I was thirteen. I can still see the smoke rising from the ocean….

I slowly sat up and tried to shake the thought from my head. Keith must've been out early. He didn't hunt, or sneak out of the district boundaries, he just snuck out at about midnight or so and fished, just for us. We actually seemed to survive on it, so we didn't have to buy so much grain and such. That's probably what saved us from the games all these years.

Keith was 18, I was 15. This would be his last year for getting drawn for the games. I prayed every night it wouldn't be either us, but that could all change. And the worst part is he couldn't volunteer for me, and I couldn't volunteer for him. It sucked. I'd have to say good-bye to him and hope for no death to come in either of our ways.

If I got my math right, this would be the 72nd annual Hunger Games, three years from the quell. Luckily that wasn't this year. I don't even want to know what they come up with for the next one.

I got up out of bed and put on my reaping clothes, which was a simple, tan lace dress that had a white belt that goes across my chest. I actually looked sort of cute, as I looked at myself in our small mirror and took out some white flats.

Please don't let it be me or Keith. Neither of us would volunteer. Nobody would, nobody was trained and ready, someone was always chosen and taken. It did sort of the seem the odds were never in our favor, only the food odds were.

As I looked at myself a little longer, Keith crept in the door with a bag full of something.

"You look nice," he mutters, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I smile to myself.

"I can't sleep anymore, might as well get up and get ready," I sigh and watch him pull bread out of the bag.

"Where did you get that?" I ask, pointing to it. He starts laughing nervously.

"Well-"

"You didn't" I stop him, already knowing what he did. He sighs.

"Keith! Why would you do that? Why would you steal?" I yell, but he shushes me.

"Only this once, I promise, and then I'll go get meat tomorrow,"

"If we live through today," I mumble. He glares at me.

"It could happen, you know that," I tell him. He nods.

"I know, I know, and I have to worry. I get it. I won't be able to handle it if either of us go up on that stage," I look down, then look at the bag of loaves of bread.

"I guess one day won't hurt, but never again," I say seriously. He nods.

"Completely, now go ahead and take one. We'll cut one up then save the others."

I did as I was told and grabbed a loaf out of the bag, carrying it to the kitchen and setting it down on the counter. It wasn't very warm, but the whiteness of the bread said it was still fresh. I took out a knife and started slicing it into pieces. I grabbed the end piece and immediately started eating it, sinking my teeth into the white goodness and tearing it with my teeth. Me? Not the lady-like person. At all.

No, I wasn't starving all the time, okay maybe a little. But I was grateful for me and Keith, and so were a few others, but the rest of the town was a bit of starving. We weren't the poorest, yet not the richest. We kept up at least. We're not down there with District 12, I'm sure people would be desperate enough to eat burnt bread. We're not that desperate up here in District 4.

Slowly the morning went by, eating or sitting around thinking. That's all we did for the rest of the day. Maybe I'd go outside and go to the beach, sit down and relax, looking at the calm waters. Maybe I'd go find another book to read, or read one of my favorites over and over again.

That wasn't the usual routine today. I sat there on our old beige couch, my head leaning on my hand, thinking about all that could go wrong this afternoon. This wasn't usually me, I was usually the optimistic person who could find a light instead of darkness. But when I knew events in the future that were about to happen, that's all I thought about, and I just couldn't stop thinking about it.

And before I knew it, we heard the District alarm, signaling us to head to the town center. I looked at Keith wide-eyed, and he motioned his hand, telling me to come along and calm down at the same time. I got up along with him, then we slowly walked out of the house and down to the center of our district.

You could hear everyone's footsteps in the grainy sand, heading out of their homes and saying good-bye to their loved ones. We didn't do that until we reached where we checked in, where I started freaking out.

"Lily, relax, it won't be that bad, just go right through and think about something else," Keith whispers to me. I nod shakily. I release my hand from his and go into the line. I could feel my whole body shake with nervousness, and that awful feeling in my stomach crept up on me. That horrible throw-up feeling, although it never happened.

Once I was at the front, I carefully walked up and held my hand out. I hated this, I could never watch my finger getting pricked. I jumped a little as she did it. It was farely quick, although I felt my finger still throbbing as she waved me through. I clenched that hand into a fist as I walked with other fifteen year old girls.

The mayor and other district officials begin pouring out of the main building, sitting in lined up chairs. I looked around at everyone in their pale clothes and lightly tanned skin. Everyone looked about the same around here. The same depressed face everyone had spread throughout the district like a disease. Because that's it ever was around here.

I didn't see Keith around anywhere so I decided to stop looking and start sweating nervously. Also because it was very, very hot.

And of course, a peppy capitol citizen that was the escort came bouncing out onto the stage. Her long blonde hair was dip-dyed, tipped red and orange, matching her red and orange fire dress. She had gloves that made her arms look like they were on fire. She had about foot-high, really tacky looking orange heals strapped up her foot. Don't even get me started with the makeup. The eyeshadow was ridiculous, red and orange coating her eyes and dripping down her face. Then some really bright red lipstick on her lips. The last weird thing was her earrings, orange, tall triangles that went down to her shoulders.

"Welcome everyone! Happy Hunger Games!" She said with her bright voice. "And may the odds be ever in your favor," I blew my blonde bangs out of my eyes, the sun blinding them.

"First, we have a film to show you, made by our very own, President Snow," As she pointed to the screen as the film started playing it. Keith and I have practically memorized it, so I start to zone out a bit.

It is completely possible for either of us to be picked, we could both go in at the same time. I couldn't kill Keith, barely think about doing so. I just don't know what I'd do in that sort of situation. I'd probably let him kill me. Ugh, it's just sad to think it could happen.

"Now as always, ladies first," she calls out, walking over the girls' bowl and digging her hand in the bowl full of small white paper slips, each of our names' carefully written on each of them, maybe more than once. I keep pleading and begging it's not me, and course my pleads weren't heard.

And apparently neither were Keith's. The odds were exactly not in our favor. At all.

Keith and I were going into the games together, then to be forced to kill eachother.


End file.
